


snowflakes and embers

by evernotte



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M, also phil is younger than dan in this, dan is the head of a printing house, loner dan, magic (kinda), phil is his employee, sunshine phil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evernotte/pseuds/evernotte
Summary: “A present. For Christmas,” he clarified. “To say thank you for taking me under your wing and keeping me here, and to make sure that, even if you don’t have any relatives to celebrate with, you got at least one gift from someone who wishes you well.”or the 'a christmas carol' au that i always wanted so i just wrote myself
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	snowflakes and embers

**Author's Note:**

> It's currently 2 AM on Christmas morning and I'm sitting in my kitchen, right after I just watched the Muppet adaptation of "A Christmas Carol" and left my almost-step-sister to sleep in my room, and I'm writing this directly here on the site, cause I'm inspired, have nothing better to do and feel the need for this AU to be out there. Excuse any mistakes and typos, it's late and English is not my first language anyway.

It was nothing like in the movies, at least, not when viewed from Dan’s tired eyes.

  
Yes, the snow was fluffy and bright, but it was _cold_ and hurt his vision, and so he hated touching or looking at it. Yes, the jingles of bells were clear as day and sang melodies, but they were also too _loud_ and _obnoxious_ for an early December workday. And sure, the streets were filled with bright-eyed people with big smiles and cheery greetings on their lips, but nothing about the people in London promised him success and growth, not when their smiles weren’t worth _a single penny_ of his work.

His eyelids hung low as punch after punch on the several rusty typewriters rang through the air, soaking the thin white walls during yet another gray day. 

Despite the mechanical clicking, the whole place was filled with laughter and conversation, albeit a bit dimmed, as if the workers that made the noise were afraid not to make too much noise, not to disrupt his work or provoke him in any way.

And they weren’t in the wrong for doing so.

As the clock hit noon and the streets started filling with more and more loud people, Dan’s eyebrows scrunched in concentration over the manuscript he currently had between his hands. It was titled “Nowhere Like Home” and consisted of a hundred pages of…

“Absolute garbage!” Dan exclaimed, throwing the papers in the direction of his bin, which was already spilling out the previous rejects of the day. The uproar brought him all the attention in the office. “Whoever took one look at this and decided it was worth my time, can just leave right now,” As he said that in a loud and clear tone, a few pairs of frightened eyes looked around the room. The crease between Dan’s eyebrows grew deeper. “Don’t make me repeat myself, or I _will_ make sure all of you take the fault for this.”

A smallish woman stepped forward, her frame shaking, delicate hands holding tightly onto the red scarf wrapped around her neck. Dan’s eyes narrowed in her direction.

“S-sir, Mr. Howell sir, I wasn’t sure of the quality, as my range of expertise is not and never will be on your level, sir, and the title sounded-”

“The _title_?” Dan interrupted her with a fake grin. “Oh so, tell me about the title, Miranda. Please, I am incredibly curious as to why that specific title caught your attention. What was so intriguing, so _unique_ in ‘Nowhere Like Home’? The structure? Or maybe the originality, that’s probably it, isn’t it?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as his smile grew bigger and faker with every word.

Miranda gulped, her grip on her scarf tightening, but she didn’t say anything.

Dan’s smile dropped into a steel, unamused expression.

“That’s what I thought. Out.”

Miranda twitched.

_“Now!”_

The small amount of resolve in her crumbled and her eyes filled with tears as she ran straight for the front door, loud sobs muffled into her scarf.

Dan turned his head towards the rest of the silent office, mouth twisted in an ugly frown. As quick as the icy wind blowing people’s hats off, his employees turned back to their individual works, avoiding all eye contact with their frustrated boss.

Not a single sound of laughter was heard for the rest of the day.

* * *

By the time six o’clock came around, Dan’s desk was nearly clear from all the manuscripts he had piled up this morning, and most of those were inside and surrounding the office bin. He was reading through yet another excuse for a novella, when two combat boots entered his line of sight, shuffling closer until they were hidden by his desk. He looked up from the papers slowly and almost rolled his eyes at the bright face of none other than his head editor.

“Phil.”

“Mr. Howell,” replied the boy politely, giving a tiny nod. The smile never left his face.

“What do you want?”

Dan’s sharp tone didn’t even make him twitch.

“It’s just that, I wanted to wish you Merry Christmas, Mr. Howell, as Christmas is tomorrow and since I probably won’t see you then, I-”

“What do you mean, you won’t see me? Are you dying?”

Phil’s smile faltered a bit. He looked confused.

“No, sir, I’m in perfect health. See, as I said, tomorrow is Christmas, and no printing house in the city will be working, so I just thought…” he trailed off, his face suddenly filling with regret. Dan’s expression stayed the same.

“You thought what, Lester? Stop wasting my time and speak up!”

“I thought it wouldn’t be such a big deal if we maybe… if we took the day off as well?” Phil cringed slightly at how his voice cracked at the end of the question.

Dan only let out a bitter laugh.

“Good thing I’m not paying you to _think_ then, isn’t it?” By the look on his face and the words coming out of his mouth, Phil’s face fell completely, already defeated. But Dan wasn’t finished. “Except, if I wasn’t such a kind and generous boss, I would have made you work tomorrow as well. As it is, this year’s publications were some of the most successful ones we’ve ever had, they sold out fast and were under my excellent supervision the entire time, so I’m letting you have this one day off. But don’t forget that, because it will likely not happen again, do you hear me?” Despite the threatening tone at the end, Phil’s face-splitting grin was indicator enough that he didn’t hear anything past ‘day off’. His coworkers seemed to follow, since there was a quiet murmur crawling around the office now.

“Oh, thank you so much, sir! This is so generous of you, Mr. Howell, and we promise to make the upcoming year even better for our name, you’ll see!” Phil’s enthusiasm was shared within a few people’s cheers and nods.

“I expect nothing less. Now, go back to work, Lester.” Dan waved his hand, dismissing him, but when Phil didn’t immediately return back to his own desk, he looked up again, this time more than a little annoyed. “What?!”

“It’s just, well, I also wanted to give you this,” Phil pulled a small brown package out of his coat pocket and placed it in front of Dan, who was now staring at him with raised eyebrows. “A present. For Christmas,” he clarified. “To say thank you for taking me under your wing and keeping me here, and to make sure that, even if you don’t have any relatives to celebrate with, you got at least one gift from someone who wishes you well.”

Phil then turned around, not waiting for a reaction, too afraid of getting an angry outburst, and shuffled back to his workplace.

For the rest of the evening, Dan kept glancing at the brown package between reading manuscripts, and when he arrived home after closing time that night, he made sure to put the present on the top shelf deep into his dusty closet, where he never looked, and never would.


End file.
